YOU can always bank on Javed Hashmi to generate a row, sometimes against the ideals of merit.

In a world where greetings have to always be profuse and generously decorated with the superlative, and in a country where these adjectives have to be accompanied by embraces if the recipient so approves, one man is being accused of forcibly adopting the nation’s new leader as his own. “Mian Nawaz Sharif was my leader then and he is my leader now.” This was hardly out of sync with the general Pakistani custom of bombastic salutations and the occasion was unprecedented. Don’t know what all this fuss is about.

Only Mr Hashmi, with the possible exception of the now obscure Sardar Aslam Raisani, had a chance to create a controversy as big as this over a trifle. A degree is a degree, whether it is faked or whether it is genuine. Likewise, a leader remains a leader, even if, prima facie, there are some technical reasons to say that you have made your exit from the ranks of being led. The expulsion is impossible — no, it is unthinkable, in the case of a powerful prime minister who wants to carry everyone along and who has forgiven all.

There is only one possible explanation to the outrageous stuff Mr Hashmi’s hailing of the very worthy has resulted in. His watchers in the assembly have been particularly severe on him and once again they are keen on finding a slip where none has actually taken place.

In the wake of his latest so-called gaffe, the mischievous lot had the quick presence of mind to recall a rather awkward incident from the past. In the same house during the previous term, Mr Hashmi had earned himself the ultimate ignominy by coming up with a line that could loosely be interpreted as appreciative of President Asif Ali Zardari: him, of all the people on the face of this earth.

Not exactly known to mince his words but until then a PML-N loyalist to the core, Javed Hashmi had then said that one needed to be a PhD to understand Mr Zardari’s politics. For all we know, bound by the presidential protocol, that could have been his way of politely asking the president to please explain; his way of pointing out that the president didn’t in fact possess a doctorate, an obvious logical outcome of which was that he did not quite know what politics he was doing.

Yet it was made out to be a glaring error of judgement, and the guilty was pounced upon and lavished with innuendo. Some of the pundits, at hand and looking to supervise a hasty untying of the knot ceremony, went as far as predicting his separation from the PML-N camp he was an unshakeable part of until then.

The latest incident could also have been ignored. At least some of the dire consequences it entailed for the national politics could well have been avoided with adherence to the time-honoured and often all-encompassing Pakistani greeting regime and to the spirit of reconciliation permeating the house at the start of a new term. But some of those who chose to ignore the “my friend Musharraf” quip from the ever-truthful Mahmood Khan Achakzai during the same session failed in their democratic duty when they couldn’t quite extend the same courtesy towards a very emotional rebel from southern Punjab. That’s discriminatory.

Soon afterwards, his Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf (PTI) explained that Mr Hashmi’s seemingly grand welcome to Mian Sahib on his third term was actually a result of a slip of the tongue and not at all meant to be a salute. This decided the matter and those who had been saying the PTI was too bland and that the party didn’t have a sense of humour were left grimacing.

Last Sunday, a whole four days of national debate over the extremely important issue later, Javed Hashmi had to formally retract his statement. In a very meaningful assertion, he told journalists in Multan that the television anchors, habitual party-changers as they are, had blown his remarks out of proportion. If that has not already happened, given the speed at which they hop jobs, one of these days an anchor is bound to sign-off for the wrong channel, where he or she had been employed until a few hours ago. Yet the media was so unsympathetic to someone who has changed parties once in 35 years and who was trying to improve on a democratic tradition of across-the-party eulogising that is already very much in existence.

At the press conference, Javed Hashmi clarified that the so-called mistake ascribed to him did not occur because of any perceived similarities in the respective leaderships of Mian Nawaz Sharif and Imran Khan. He strove to create a clear distinction by applauding Mr Khan “for trying to introduce a new political culture in the country.” He was close. Mr Khan was about to be credited for setting a new trend in politics, but just then his party intervened and set the process in reverse by forcing Mr Hashmi to renege on his message of felicitation to the old leader, new prime minister.

Hailing apparently rival leaders for their work is not unheard of in Pakistan. President Asif Zardari says democracy in the country is the fruit borne out of the sacrifices made by not just his leader Benazir Bhutto but also by Mian Nawaz Sharif. In turn, Ms Bhutto is today celebrated by political groups across the board.

Her father, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, is routinely remembered as the only leader this country has produced after the Quaid-i-Azam. Berated for only discovering true leadership when the leader was gone, Javed Hashmi, the rebel, seemed to be only seeking to make a turn towards the positive when he was brusquely pulled up.

The writer is Dawn’s resident editor in Lahore.